*
‘Have the sentries evacuated the station,’ Giselle cried into her collar mike. ‘Tell them to run and keep running. There won’t be anything left to guard anyway.’ Her recklessness down the mountain was lighting up the snowmobile’s control panel with alerts. Giselle, however, was more interested in the weapon systems screen upon which Mischa was lining up the Alpine Special Forces base with target selection.
‘Plenty of times I have programmed home base into the navigation unit,’ murmured Mischa, ‘but putting missile lock onto it is quite a different thing.’
‘I’m sure there has been many a day when you would have enjoyed the opportunity.’
‘That’s true. If there wasn’t the possibility of incapacitated personnel being on the ground, I would just send one big bomb and wipe the whole place clean.’ Mischa hurriedly completed target selection of all the vehicles and weapons storage areas on the base. ‘None of the assets are moving,’ he said. ‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’
Giselle gestured to the screen. ‘Two of those vehicles are armoured trucks carrying nuclear missiles. By the time they start moving, it will be too late.’
‘And the snowmobiles? They have some of the best Search and Rescue equipment in Switzerland.’
‘Which Mas would use to destroy.’
‘Well, it’s going to be loud,’ murmured Mischa as he pressed the missile launch button. With a shuddering roar, the missiles shot together away from the snow mobile in a flat trajectory towards the Alpine Special Forces base. ‘Pull over and we’ll watch the show,’ Mischa said. ‘And bring the sniper rifle.’ He sprung impatiently out of the snowmobile without waiting for it to stop. He rolled through the snow and finished on his knees. He stared through his binoculars at the base down at the base of the mountain. The missiles struck, the balls of flame brilliantly bright against the backdrop of the late afternoon’s fading light. Mischa scoured the base’s perimetre for any sign of Mas. Giselle joined him in a kneeling position, looking down the scope of her sniper rifle. Amidst the fires taking hold throughout the base, people began to emerge, heading for the perimetre gates in dazed steps.
‘See anyone suspicious?’ murmured Giselle.
‘They’re all our people,’ replied Mischa. ‘You don’t recognise any of them? They’ve been saluting you for years.’
Giselle noticed a slim, dark figure weaving through the flames. The movements were fast and fluid - a predator in full flight.
‘Got her.’ Giselle fired several rounds. Mas, however, did not slow, sprinting through the perimetre fence and away into Par.
Mischa jumped up and spat, ‘How did she get away? There’s no gate there.’
‘I get the feeling we weren’t the only ones blowing up things on the base,’ murmured Giselle. She straightened up and said into her collar mike, ‘Gagel, the target is coming and there is nothing standing in her way.’ She waited for a reply but all she got was silence. ‘Gagel, answer me. Mas is coming.’
Hurt World One and the Zombie Rats Page 20
